Stork and Owl
by DodgerMD
Summary: After House's infarction and release from hospital, Wilson helps him adjust to his new life situation.
1. Chapter 1

"You'll have to talk to him again. Eventually.", there they stood, just outside the building, the cold wind tugging on both their coats, the clouds threateningly darkening the already shying away sun more and more, making it not all too hard to guess it proboply would start raining sometime tonight.  
"He'll also have to start talking to me again. Eventually. I think I will wait until then.", Stacy sighed, her head turning towards the building's door and then the window to it's left, light burning inside of the groundlevel appartment right next to it, obviously somebody was at home.

Wilson didn't return anything. He merely watched her, his head tilting slightly, when her attention returned to him. His gaze filling with true sympathy, whenever he found her eyes growing glassy and definatly not becouse of the wind still violently rushing up and down the street, almost like it intended to chase everyone off the street personally.  
"Is he right? Did I ruin his life?", she finally said in a hushed tone, her hand going up to lightly whip over her cheek just below her eye, like to prevent any tears from falling with this action. She didn't want to sob at Wilson's shoulder. Not again. She had done it often enough these last couple of weeks.

"I . . .", Wilson began, but stopped, biting his lips, while he reached out to squeeze her shoulder in a comforting gesture,  
"Stacy. You safed his life."  
"Yeah, awesome. But what kind of life? He's still in so mu . . .", her voice was starting to topple over, making her swallow down the bubbling up tears, when Wilson thankfully enough interrupted her.  
"Give him time. Time for everthing, okay? You know him. You broke his trust and you know how he is about that. You lied to him, betrayed him, least, that's how he's seeing it. Just give him the time to realice he proboply would've done the same, would it have been you. You did it out of love and he might not know that now, but he eventually will. Okay?", he tried forcing a bit of a smile onto his face, while the same time he knew that it was now him who was telling lies. He didn't know if his friend would ever forgive her. He didn't know if he would've done the same. Or if he would've respected her wish until the end. God. The stubborn idiot proboply would and if just to prove he loved and respected her in those twisted ways of his. Still, Stacy didn't need to know. Not now.

"I'm sorry, James. You're such a good friend and all I've been doing is sobbing. I don't even want to know what you must be thinking of me.", Stacy finally answered, also managing a bittersweet little chuckle, while reaching down to pick up the sportsbag that had been standing at her feet.  
"I'll be with my sister. You know her number, don't you?"  
Wilson just nodded, while Stacy heaved a sigh,  
"Please. Have an eye on him, okay? I just . . . I c-can't . . . I don't want to make it even worse for him."  
"It's okay. And don't worry, I'm used to babysitting the crotchety child.", he tilted his head a bit, while smiling slightly, relieved to see her also give a little smile.

She had been through so much. First her boyfriend nearly died to an extreamly rare infarction, then she had to ignore his wishes & use his own idea of being put in a coma to her advantage, saving his life like that. But what was the reward? As soon as he was back to his senses he accused her of being responsible for ruining his life. For putting him into misery on purpose. And how he knew to make her feel guilty. How he knew to make her suffer.  
Truth be told, Wilson understood his anger. To some point. Still, he was taking it all a bit far, as usual. Not having talked to Stacy for over a week at the hospital & afterwards, just accusing her again and again, in these piercing ways of his.  
Maybe it really was best for Stacy to leave for a little while. He was out of the worst, already at home for over a week. Now only time could tell where this rocky road would lead him. Would lead all of them.

One thing was sure, though. Wilson would go with him. The best he could. Like he always had. And that was also why he was here. Well, Stacey's desperate call of having been verbally thrown out proboply also playing a role in why he was here right now.  
The two of them just looked at eachother for another long moment, like talking without words, until both finally gave a little nod. Stacy turning & heading for her car.  
Wilson watching her go for another little moment, then he turned himself, walking up the few steps leading to the building's entrance, once inside turning to the left and eventhough he saw the door wasn't in it's lock, but just leaned close he knocked. No respone. Not that he would've expected one.  
He so just heaved a deep breath, before slowly stepping inside, looking about a bit, with a careful,  
"House?"


	2. Chapter 2

"House? " Wilson asked again, once he had entered, his gaze wandering about the room. No response. Not that he really had been expecting any.

His brows starting to narrow slightly, he kept letting his eyes wander about in search for his friend, who had to be here somewhere, until finally the sound of somebody moving on a leather couch caught his attention. Well, he could have been looking there to begin with.

"House.", Wilson said yet again, heaving somewhat of a little sighing breath, while he got out of his coat, placing it on its usual place beside the door, before heading for the couch and around it. Where he, to no big surprise, finally found House. No, he could not have said a thing. Same time, the TV should have been enough to already tell Wilson where House would be, the moment he had entered. Then again, maybe it had been a sort of deep down wish of his to not find House on the couch. Where he already had found him every other time he had visited, after House's release from hospital.

Looking down at his friend, who was sprawled on the brown leather couch, dressed in a sweater and pyjamas, half covered by a blanket and supported on a couple of cushions, Wilson really had a hard time keeping a sympathetic look from his face.

He felt so incredibly sorry for House, not to mention he simply was a most pitiful sight. Wilson did not know how much weight he had lost, but it certainly was a lot, making him look even more lanky and worn-out than he already had a tendency to look, anyway. His blue eyes were red, probably he had been crying again, when he had known he had been alone. Like he had done in the hospital a couple times, whenever Wilson had pretended to be asleep or just been watching with Stacy from outside. Wilson could not blame House. He actually was surprised he wasn't crying a lot more. Wilson didn't even dare to try imagining just how his friend must be feeling.

All the pain he had been in. The pain he still was in. Wilson knew he no longer was on the morphine and stubborn as he was, had refused taking any kind of other means to help him get relief from the pain that still was in his leg and the way things were looking right now, was probably never going to fade again. The thought alone made Wilson shiver a bit on the inside.

Yet, he knew the worst he could do was letting his friend know how sorry he felt for him. He already had been with him all these weeks in hospital, when House would not allow Stacy near him anymore, without immediately going into a yelling fit. Wilson also would be with him now.

"Did Stacy send you to baby-sit me?", House then all of the sudden said in his still somewhat croaked sounding voice, making Wilson realise the pause of them just staring at each other already had been far too long. He cleared his throat in a somewhat embarrassed fashion, before finally returning,

"Yes.", was all he said bluntly, "After all you won't talk to her."

"I talk to her.", House muttered gruffly.

"You yell at her. Or insult her.", Wilson merely returned, before he even fully had proceeded what he was saying, but as soon as it was out, he realised it had been probably a highly unwise thing to say, for House's tired face suddenly grew angry,

"She ruined my life! Forever!", he hissed, making Wilson bite his lip a bit, followed by a little pause, in hope it would calm House down again somewhat, they had had this argument plenty of times these last couple of weeks,

"She just wanted your best. ", Wilson said in an almost hushed tone.

"Your best. My ass. ", House mumbled in a gruff tone, making Wilson decide to try changing the subject, granted, his next choice was not all too much wiser.

"How's physical therapy going? ", he asked a bit hesitatingly, immediately earning him a stern frown from House, who just stared at him for another long moment, before he said,

"I'm not going anymore."

"What! ", Wilson almost gasped, shaking his head in an unbelieving gesture. Granted, he wasn't really surprised. In the hospital Wilson had been able to drag House to physical therapy. Simply push him into the wheelchair and bring him without leaving him much of a choice. Now he was at home though and he obviously wanted the impossible again and if he could not have it, he would start simply refusing to do anything.

"Are you crazy, House? Where is the wheelchair? ", Wilson couldn't help but yell, looking around. It was gone.

"I don't need the damn wheelchair! ", House returned, seeming to just welcome the opportunity to flare up again.

"W-what? ", Wilson could not help a bitter laugh, "You can't walk! And you won't be able to walk ever again, if you don't go to pt!"

"I don't need the damn therapy!", House sneered back, making Wilson flail his arms a bit in disbelieve and frustration, even he would not have believed of his friend being that, god, he could not even find a word.

"You know what! If you don't need anything, you also don't need me here! I seriously got enough of this! Everyone just wants your best, wants to help and all you do is shove everyone away! God! House! Seriously, I am not willing to do this any longer. If you want to spend the rest of your life sprawled on that couch, hating the world, fine! Fine! I wish you lots of fun!", Wilson didn't even really know what had gotten into him; all he knew was that he had enough. Enough of trying to help his friend and just being met with protest. No. House had defiantly crossed the line this time.

Dumbfound by this outburst, House merely stared at Wilson for a moment, until Wilson gave another frustrated laugh, just to walk back to the door, grab his coat and without any further words heading out again, the only thing he heard being called after him, when he closed the door behind him was,

"Good! LEAVE! You coward!"

But Wilson did not turn. He returned to his car and he returned home, not telling his wife about the fight, but going straight to bed. Tomorrow would be another day.


	3. Chapter 3

Tomorrow was always another day and it also was this time. Wilson admittingly was still angry at House for being that stubborn, the next morning. He just couldn't understand how somebody could be stubborn enough to basically hurt himself, just because things wouldn't work the way he wanted them to. Sure, House had a very high and strict sense for his personal dignity, which Wilson was even able to understand. To some point, at least. What he could not understand was why House had just stopped with the physical therapy, even though he really had been showing progress at the point he had been released from hospital. But this wasn't enough. No, he also had gotten rid of the wheelchair. Basically locking himself in his place.

Sure, Wilson knew he could still move around his apartment, after all his left leg was fine, but without working on it, he probably never would be going any farther than from the couch to the bathroom and back. This alone being an epic journey, Wilson had been around to experience it plenty of times himself these last couple of weeks. Wilson simply couldn't understand how House could just give up like that. House, to whom the term of giving up on something he wanted usually was a foreign one. It frustrated Wilson. It frustrated him to a level where he was not willing to accept it.

By next day's afternoon Wilson's anger, as per usual, had faded completely. Instead he had come up with something else. Something he hoped dearly would work, for there wasn't all too much more than this he would be able to do.

Having parked his car just outside House's apartment building, he soon saw light burning inside when he headed up the few stairs and inside. He knew it was pretty much pointless, but he still knocked, once he was standing in front of House's door. No response. No surprise, really.

He so reached up and let his fingers run over the doorframe, until he found the single key always waiting there, without much hesitation picking it up and letting him in with it.

Taking a moment to replace the key on its place on top of the doorframe, Wilson was actually a little surprised to find House peeking over the back of the couch at him, whenever he turned his attention towards the living room. For a couple of moments the two of them just staring at each other, while Wilson slipped out of his coat. Almost like they shared a sort of silent conversation, only two friends as close as them would be able to understand. Well, probably they both had needed that little verbal smack-down to finally release some of the stress that had built itself up within both their heads; they both seemed to wordlessly agree on that.

"Are you ever going to pee or should I better get you another catheter for the other people living here's sake?", Wilson said in somewhat of a joking tone, trying to give them both a better start than yesterday with approaching in a more light-hearted manner. Well, as light-hearted as the circumstances allowed him to, for the moment he saw House's pitiful sight; he again had a hard time holding back both, his sympathy and frustration.

"No need to, I had the couch filled with clumping kitty litter. Only to be replaced every two weeks. ", House returned, obviously after yesterday's fight, also in a more peaceful mood now. Or least attempting to be.

"Well, then we better get you off that thing before those two weeks pass.", Wilson announced after a little chuckle.

"Good luck on that. ", was all House muttered. However, Wilson didn't let himself being set back; he just tilted his head somewhat before saying,

"I brought you something."

This obviously surprised House, for his eyes grew curious for a moment, scanning Wilson in search for what he might be talking about. That alone actually making a brief little smile twitch in the corner of Wilson's mouth. Like a child sometimes, wasn't he?

Not wanting to leave House waiting any longer, Wilson brought forward the arm he had been hiding behind his back, holding a long, slim piece of wood in his hand.

"What's that? ", House immediately asked, leaning up some on his couch, actually looking somewhat disappointed.

"A cane. ", was all Wilson stated, simply sitting down on the coffee table in front of the couch.

"I see that it's a cane. What am I supposed to do with it? I'm not in retirement, y'know. ", House imidiatly returned, his voice getting somewhat defendant. Yet, Wilson already had seen something like that coming and so stayed completely calm.

"Yes, I know and just like yourself, I would also like for you to stay out of retirement.", Wilson spoke calmly, House not responding anything, just staring at Wilson in a disapproving way.

"Listen, you know as good as I do, that without any help you'll never be able to walk any further than from here to the bathroom and back again. And we also both know that you'll choke if you're locked in here for the rest of your life. House. Come on. You can't seriously want that. ", Wilson spoke insistently.

House just continuing to stare for another moment, until he finally quirked a brow slightly, which was enough for Wilson to know House had realised his point.

"And what does the cane have to do with that? ", House then finally asked.

"I went to talk to Jennifer today. ", Wilson began.

"Who's Jennifer? " House interrupted, making Wilson roll his eyes somewhat,

"Your physical-therapist. You've been with her every day almost the entire last month."

"Yeah, I'm sorry. Didn't have a chance to socialise, was too busy with the throbbing pain in my leg and that sadistic woman torturing me.", House immediately hissed back mockingly.

Wilson merely ignoring it, instead going on speaking.

"Anyway, I talked to her and she said that the most mobile state she could see you in was walking with the support of a cane. Naturally you would've needed a lot more time actually doing proper pt to slowly adjust to the use of the cane, but since you're not willing to accept the small steps. Here's one big one. ", Wilson told, holding out the cane for House, who however just stared at it for a moment, but did not move an inch.

"She also said a quad cane would've been the best for you. But knowing your ridiculous sense of dignity, I doubt you would've seriously considered using one of those. So, I got you this one. ", Wilson added, followed by another pause of them simply staring at each other, until House finally spoke up,

"I won't use that one either. ", he just said, in an almost pouting tone.

Wilson just shook his head somewhat,

"You know what? I'll just leave it right here, though. In case you change your mind."

He leaned the cane against the armchair standing beside the couch, while acting like he didn't see House closely following his every move.

"And now. I'll get us some food. My wife cooked and I asked her to pack something for you, too. Who knows when you last had a decent meal.", Wilson said, getting back to his feet, while House once more turned to watch the cane leaning just an arm's lengths away.


	4. Chapter 4

Whenever he went to visit House the next couple of days Wilson continued knocking before he entered, instead of just reaching up to take the key waiting on top of the doorframe. It probably was just wishful thinking, he knew, but every time he knocked, he hoped to finally find the door being opened by House.

He had brought him the cane; it was now on House alone what he would make out of it. Jennifer the physic-therapist had said it would be hard for House to pretty much skip all other steps and go from walking hardly at all to just walking with the help of a cane. It would be hard and painful she had told Wilson. The same time, Wilson knew his friend hardly ever could resist a challenge, but this time, he just didn't know where this would lead. It was House's one chance. Wilson didn't even want to know what might happen, would he not take it. What his friend might end up being capable of doing.

Like that, Wilson continued knocking on the door every time he would find himself standing in front of House's door. And like it had happened the last couple of days, there was no response, once he grew still for a moment after having knocked, just listening. Heaving a frustrated and also disappointed breath, Wilson so turned to reach up for the key again. As usually letting his fingers run over the doorframe's top in search for the key, leaning against the doorframe with his other arm somewhat, whenever he couldn't seem to find it. One might think he should remember where he put the key the day before, after all the doorframe wasn't that big.

However, before he could find the key, a sound made him freeze once again. It was a silent sound from behind the door. A sound he did not yet know would soon enough become somewhat of his friend's signature, making it obvious whenever he was approaching. It was the sound of steps. Uneven steps, along with a muffled thudding keeping them company.

Wilson was so very enchanted by this noise he never would have expected to hear ever again, he just kept standing there, leaned against the doorframe, while listening to the uneven steps and thuds approach.

Until all of the sudden the door in front of him swung open and Wilson found himself faced by House, who just stared at his friend leaning against the doorframe in a pretty awkward pose.

"What's that supposed to be? Booty call? Seriously, Wilson. That's not hot; your wife's just been mocking you again. ", House said, cocking a brow somewhat, while all Wilson could do was goggle at him dumfound.

Never ever had he expected to see his friend on eyelevel again. And there he was. Standing in front of him. Wilson couldn't help, but swallow hard for a moment, admitingly at a complete loss of words. On the inside his mind was spinning, almost making him dizzy with joy. He was standing! He was standing right in front of him!

"Are you going to come in or what? " House then finally broke the silence, making Wilson realise how stupidly he just had been standing there staring. As well as he realised House was obviously still feeling very uncomfortable, teaching by the flinch escaping him, whenever he shifted somewhat, while trying to lean most of his weight against the doorway he was standing in.

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry. ", Wilson finally managed to mumble, clearing his throat a bit embarrassedly, whenever he turned to walk inside after House, stopping at the door however. So to close it, get rid of his coat and admitingly in hope to catch a glimpse of House actually walking.

Which he did, for House obviously was about to reach the end of his capability to stand on his two feet, having turned to immediately head back for the safety of the couch.

Wilson just watching wordlessly. He still looked very unstable and painful the way he walked, obviously also having a hard time keeping balance, as well as his steps were very stiff, looking like every little move was really painful to him. Leaning heavily against the supporting cane in his right hand with ever step.

Still, he was walking. He was walking! The first step had, almost literally, been taken. Wilson wanted to praise House, tell him how proud, how happy, how relieved he felt. He actually had a hard time resisting the urge to simply hug House. But he knew this probably would be highly contra productive, knowing House and so, all he said was,

"You're using the cane wrong."

House just turned halfway around, cocking a brow somewhat and like he had read everything that had been hidden between the lines in that single line, said in a teasing tone,

"Oh, demanding high standards, huh? "He cocked a brow somewhat,

"You wanted me to walk with the cane. I walk with the cane. And I use that cane just the way I want to use it."

"Okay.", Wilson merely returned, this time however, not able to keep himself from smiling for a moment.


	5. Chapter 5

From that day on Wilson continued knocking at the door every time he would visit House and every time he found his friend opening up the door, Wilson had a hard time holding back a wide grin of joy. House probably didn't even know just how glad it made Wilson to see him standing again. He never really had lost hope in House. No. He knew him far too long already, he knew how stubborn he could be, but he also knew what all he was capable of, if he only really wanted to. And once again he had proved himself. Proved himself in front of the world.

Yet, Wilson knew that it couldn't stay like this forever. Sure, House secretly was practicing to walk with the cane, but pacing up and down his own living room couldn't be all he was doing on the long run. After all, he sure wanted to walk further than twice through the living room one day. He never would be able to go hiking again or on a long stroll through town, but Wilson now really saw the possibility of House being able to live a relatively normal life again. Do the grocery shopping on his own. Be able to spend a night out with Wilson again. Maybe even return to work, for Wilson knew work at the hospital was House's deep down passion.

"What about we go for a walk. ", Wilson so asked a few days later, when they were both sitting on the couch watching TV. House just shooting him a frown in return,  
"Yeah, why don't we go for a run in the park? ", he said mockingly, making Wilson roll his eyes a bit.  
"Come on, just down the street to that public bench and back. ", Wilson said, followed by tilting his head a bit,  
"I'll give you twenty bucks if you do it."  
"And where am I supposed to spend it? If you haven't noticed, I don't have any stores inside my apartment. ", House returned.  
"Well, you also won't be able to go to any, if you don't start practicing a bit more. Or can't you do it? ", Wilson said, still completely calm, House's look alone enough for him to know his friend had just swallowed the bait. Perfect.

"Sure I can do it.", House said and about five minutes later the two men were heading down the pavement. Slowly, but steadily. Wilson making sure to keep close to House's side, who still was a bit wobbly on his feet, from time to time starting to drift towards the right, but always catching himself again, before Wilson really had to interfere. Granted, the distance obviously still was pretty long and hard for House to handle. His limp growing harder and harder, his legs more and more stiff the further they walked, as well as he became remarkably slower about halfway to the public bench on the other end of the block. For a moment Wilson almost wanted to suggest for them to turn around and go back, maybe it still had been to early. Yet, the determined look in House's face kept him from doing so.  
And what seemed to be an eternity later, they actually had made it to the bench, where House immediately took a seat, while flinching to himself, his hand soon starting to rub at his sore thigh.

"Isn't it a bit cold to sit down? ", Wilson just said, to which House shot him another frown.  
"You're welcome to carry me back. " House muttered, to which Wilson returned by heaving another breath, before sitting down beside his friend.  
They probably were quite a curious sight. Two men sitting on a bench, one just wearing his pyjamas underneath his coat. Well, whatever.  
They kept sitting on the bench for quite a while, not really needing to talk to know what was on the other's mind. After a while, however, they had to return to House's place. Which proved itself to be an even longer journey, for House obviously had reached his personal limit by the time they finally were back.  
He didn't even wait for Wilson, who was closing the door and getting out of his coat, but immediately limped for the couch, where he let himself fall onto the cushions and about the very same moment already fell asleep from exhaustion.  
Wilson just took a seat on the nearby armchair, watching his friend. This defiantly had been very hard for him, but still he had done it. Wilson heaved a deep breath, while smiling to himself gladly.

The following week they continued heading for the bench and back again every day. However, just like he had feared it would happen, House soon enough grew impatient. Obviously he wasn't making enough process for his personal liking. Also Wilson pointing out that this was only natural, not to mention House had skipped a lot of steps in pt didn't help.  
He soon enough returned to his usual behaviour, whenever things didn't go just the way he wanted them to, he grew frustrated and started to protest.

It was a long, rocky road ahead of House, but he wouldn't be getting any better if he simply stopped, just because he didn't see any success right away. Wilson knew this sort of behaviour from his own patients. They wanted to see progress straight away, not wanting to wait and keep trying until they had passed the hardest part. However, Wilson knew House never would be able to be decently mobile again, would he not keep working and training his leg. All Wilson needed, was to find something that hopefully would help House get pass this hardest part. And he did.

"I brought you something.", Wilson said, sitting down on the armchair, while House took a seat on the couch after having opened Wilson the door as per usual.  
"Another cane? That won't make me walk up and down the street again, either. It's pointless and hurts far too much. I've had enough of it.", House returned, however the same time tilting his head in a bit of a curious gesture.  
"No. I brought you this. ", Wilson reached into his pocket, drawing out an orange little bottle of pills, handing it to House, who cocked a brow at Wilson, before reading the label.  
Just for both of his brows to shoot up,  
"Vicodin? You're bringing me opioids? You wanna drug me?"  
"Yes. And no.", Wilson returned, heaving a sigh, "There are good experiences with Vicodin and patients with chronic pain issues."

"Yeah, but that doesn't answer my original question. " House cocked his head,  
"There's also a good history of Vicodin and addicts."  
"Oh, come on, House. Don't be childish now. You never had any problems with drugs before. Neither in taking nor prescribing them. ", Wilson returned, sounding a bit frustrated. The decision already had been hard enough; House wasn't making it any easier like that.  
"Yeah, but you had. Which makes me wonder, why are you getting me Vicodin? ", House countered, giving Wilson a questioning look.

"I just want you to life your live again. I don't want to see you sitting around here all day. I want you to go out again. I want you to be your annoying, brilliant, exciting self again and that's impossible, if you're stuck in here. If you take the Vicodin, it'll take away most of the pain in your leg and you'll be able to continue training it and at some point you won't need the Vicodin any longer and by then the pain might just be like a bad, sore leg. Something you can deal with. So you can live again. So it can be like it used to be again.", Wilson spoke, his tone becoming almost pleading at the end, even though he didn't even mean for it to.

House just continued looking at him for a long moment, until finally it was his turn to heave a deep breath,  
"It'll never be like it used to be again. ", he spoke in a solemn tone.  
Yet, the same time popping open the bottle and dropping one of the pills into his palm.  
"I know. ", was all Wilson said, with a little nod.  
With that, House reached for a glass of water placed on the coffee table and in a swift move downed the pill with a gulp of it, followed by returning his glance to Wilson in a way that said, 'Happy now?' Wilson merely forcing a little smile onto his face. Hopefully he had done the right thing.


End file.
